


Boredom

by Iantheforlornwriter



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Banter, Boredom, Decapitation, Drama, Gen, Murder, Mystery, Sherlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 18:33:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2319269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iantheforlornwriter/pseuds/Iantheforlornwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is bored. He hasn't seen a new case in weeks, however when a green box is found by Mrs. Hudson, it might very well be cured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boredom

# Boredom 

Watson fumbled with the groceries as he tried to balance the two brown heavy bags filled with vegetables and meat of various varieties. His key was stuck in front pocket, as he had stuffed it inside when Sherlock had called him on his mobile phone for what seemed to be an emergency at the time, however he was tricked again into buying groceries. And he was pretty sure he would get sucked into cooking dinner as well. He didn't mind really, however it did get on his nerves to be tricked like that. He sighed, anyone else would leave right now, but Watson knew it was the whole package. Genius, madness and douchebag-of-the century all in one.

Reaching the front door of apartment 221B Baker Street, Watson entered the dusty room that Sherlock refused to clean and Mrs. Hudson's many attempts to clean it for him just resulted in Sherlock messing it up again. He was laid out on the couch again, staring up into the ceiling, and feet dangling, shaking vigorously.

"I've got the groceries you asked for." Watson told him, quickly walking to the kitchen counter to prevent the bags from dropping and spilling out onto the floor. 

"It's about bloody time." Sherlock shouted.

"Yes, well, you asked me to come over for an 'emergency' first, and then promptly told me, rather rudely if I may add, to be your dog and fetch the groceries."

"Well, now I'm bored! It's been weeks without a single case popping up. I am in need of mental stimulation or I swear, I will go to the precinct myself, and break the prisoners out of their mundane cages."

Watson sighed. "How would that help exactly?"

"I could kill them, and solve it myself. No, wait, that would defeat the purpose of the exercise. And disposing of the body would be too much work. Forget I ever mentioned that dull suggestion then."

"Good, now,"

Sherlock interrupted; "Until I think of something much more satisfying."

Watson groaned as he unpacked the groceries from the bag. Sherlock wouldn't bother to do it anyway, and besides, Mrs. Hudson did all the work. It wouldn't be fair for her. To do everything. Sherlock should do something, anything really. But he'd rather get high for the very sake of alleviating his boredom. Which, Watson swear he would do if they hadn't find a case in the next minute or two.

Sherlock walked to the phone, aggressively dialling numbers onto the rubber keypad. It beeped and Sherlock put the phone to his ear, very impatiently waiting for an answer.

"What are you doing now?" Watson asked.

"I'm calling Lestrade."

"Why would you do that exactly?"

"Because, Watson, I am bored. Lestrade can perhaps provide me with silent corpses that would not question my every flail of the limb."

"Alright." _Someones in a mood_ he said under his breath.

"I baked cookies." A feminine voice said as the figure emerged from the stairs. It was Mrs. Hudson, carrying a tray of cookies. Again.

"I'm making a call. Would you kindly keep your mouths shut?"

Mrs. Hudson gave Watson a look and rolled her eyes. "Someone's in a foul mood today." She said to him. Watson nodded.

"Isn't he always?"

"Quiet! Yes, Lestrade?" Sherlock talked into the phone. "Yes, I am inquiring if there are any new corpses that need to be evaluated and taken away from the poor eyesight of you 'forensics expert' who always seem to miss something."

He jammed the phone on the receiver. 

"No one is deceased."

"And you say that like it's a bad thing!" Mrs. Hudson scowled.

"Yes. It means that there is nothing to feed the growing hunger of my boredom. And I will sooner die of it than of old age."

"Now, you're just being melodramatic." Mrs. Hudson said as she walked back down the stairs.

"She's right you know."

"Save it, I have no interest in your perception in what a 'human' should do."

"Look, you need to do something else then just look at dead bodies of every second, of every day."

"If I don't, I'll die."

"Yes, I'm sure you will."

They both turned around as they heard a woman scream from beneath their apartment. 

"What was that?" Watson asked him.

Sherlock replied; "My dear Watson, that, is excitement."  
\---

"Mrs. Hudson? What is it?" Watson asked as they finally determined the source of the scream to be her.

Her hand was on her mouth as she backed up from the table, it was a green box, with a ribbon tied on top of it. It seemed nothing more but a harmless gift from a sincerely, tacky admirer but as Sherlock lifted the lit of the box. They knew why she screamed.

Inside was a decapitated head, with a note inside its mouth, stuffed behind his tongue. Sherlock read it aloud, "If you want to find my bottom half, you will follow these directions."

He looked up to face Watson in the eyes.

"My boredom is cured."

"You say that as though it's a good thing to find a decapitated head addressed to you!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed.


End file.
